The Young Avatar
by mythamagica
Summary: The monks can't have possibly determined Aang to be the Avatar simply from his toys, although they were a pretty big giveaway. The monks guess at, and know, Aang's true birthright through his every day life, and his bending revelations.
1. Air

Hiyas! This is my first Avatar the Last Airbender story, although this idea floated around my head for a while. Sorry if it seems a little short, but it's just hard to elaborate on this, I guess. So, tell me how you like it, and I guess if this isnt a total failure, I'll write and add the other parts.

* * *

Gyatso and some others were taking care of the young children in the day care. That meant that they had to listen to over a dozen crying four year old kids, who were all adorable in their own way, but who were also a pain to take care of. A part of their daily routine was to go out to a perfectly safe clearing on the high mountain, where they could see all of the life and beauty of the earth, and the air, and the waters.

So, as typical to this daily ritual, Gyatso and the other monks (old and young) went out to a clearing on the mountain. From this clearing, the cliffs and valleys of the mountain could be seen, afterwards fading into a vast ocean. Plants were evident on the higher cliffs, but were only seen as green smudges near the bottom. Gyatso felt a great sense of peace, and he closed his eyes and sighed happily.

...

A few feet away, one young four year old monk was exploring. The other, older monks had told him that it was very bad to go near the edge of the mountain. So of course, he went as close to the edge as possible.

There was a ledge, about 10 feet below, which doesn't seem like much, but for a very short and young monk, it seemed really far down.

The little boy turned around and called out to his friends. "Hey! Y' guys wanna see this? I bet it'll be really cool down there!"

The other boys, who were very far away from the edge, looked terrified, and one boy said, in a timid voice, "But we're not supposed to go there, Aang."

Aang opened his mouth to reply, but instead of a comforting "Don't worry, it'll be fun!", an "ACHOO!" flew out of his mouth, and he was launched in the air, and away from the mountain.

...

Gyatso was normally happy with this job. The kids were so lively, but at the same time, they were so calming. There were a few instances, however, where Gyatso would lose his cool, and would either be mad, or totally freaked out.

This was one of those freak-out times. He heard a really loud sneeze from the four year olds. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem, but it was way to big a sneeze for the little kids. Or any of the big kids. Or anyone, really, who wasn't air bending while sneezing. And from the sound of it, that was a really strong burst of air bending coming from a four year old boy, who shouldn't even know any bending yet.

...

Gyatso opened his eyes, and he saw a little kid fly away from the mountain.

He panicked, and he shouted to some of his assistants, "Someone grab Aang! Hurry!"

Unfortunately for Aang, none of the older monks there had gliders, so they couldn't go to catch him. Fortunately for Aang, he could bend himself, and he sneezed again, instinctively facing away from the mountain, resulting in him going back to the mountain.

Aang hadn't quite reached the clearing however, and everyone was still freaked out, but then Aang floated down lightly onto the little ledge that he had seen earlier. Despite being at least twenty feet in the air, he landed perfectly unharmed by the fall, and Aang shouted happily, "Fun! Fun! Can I do it again, Gyatso, Pwease?"

Gyatso, who was thoroughly relieved, but still spooked, answered, "No, Aang. I think we have been out long enough for one day."

He looked over at the other monks. "Well, go get the kids back inside. I'll get Aang."

With that, he jumped to the ledge, cushioning his fall with his air bending, and reached Aang, who was totally not scared at all, and was instead saying, "Gyatso, I'm sweepy."

...

Gyatso carried the now sleeping toddler back to his room, which he currently shared with a bunch of other kids. His room was still empty, however, as none of the other kids were tired. Of course, it probably had something to do with the bending. The first sparks of bending were always the most tiring after all.

Chuckling slightly to himself at the still-sleeping monk's cuteness, Gyatso placed the young boy in his bed, and tucked him in snugly. He smiled slightly, and he whispered, "I think we have a powerful bender in our presence." Maybe it could even be the Avatar. It would certainly explain why he could instinctively save himself like that.

Gyatso tuned to leave Aang to his peace when he heard a voice, that was very familiar, but from his long past. He turned around, and he saw the mouth of a sleeping boy move, but not the voice of said boy.

"Promise me to take care of him, Gyatso."

His eyes widened, as he saw, just for a second, a flash of Roku, standing regally over Aang, piercing Gyatso with a strong stare. His stare had joy, sadness, shame, and nostalgia in it, but most of all, it had hope.

Roku spoke again. "I have faith in this boy, he will surely redeem the world one day. But you have to promise me you'll train him, and train him well."

Gyatso, although in a state of shock, was still able to whisper, "I will, Roku."

With a satisfied nod, Roku's spirit morphed into a bluish mist, which faded back into Aang.

Gyatso closed his eyes.

"I will take care of Avatar Aang for you, Roku."


	2. Water

Well, I uploaded the second part of the series. I hope you guys can guess the pattern by now. If you have any complaints or ideas you want to run by me, remember: I am not a psychic. You will actually have to message me, or review, because I'm guessing you dont know who I am, and I dont know who you are.

Enjoy!

* * *

All of the little six-year-old monks were busy flying with their young bison friends. The older monks told them earlier, when they first got their sky bison, that they had to get used to flying with them, and honestly, the kids were perfectly fine with that.

'Perfectly fine', as in after they were done with their lessons and they had to go out and fly, the little kids all raced out, and aided with their air bending, got there in about five seconds. Pretty impressive, considering how far they were from the sky bison stables. All of the little kids excitedly took care of their bison and saddled them. ('No! If you do it, he might like you better, Gyatso/ other monks! I'm doing it!')

…

One of the old elders just sighed wistfully at the youthful hyperness emanating from all of them.

…

Aang was especially happy. He loved his sky bison, which he named Appa, and Appa was definitely the best bison in the universe, no matter what **all** the other monks said. ("And you can't have him!")

He climbed up on Appa and held out an apple, which he snuck from the kitchen earlier. Appa took the apple happily and waited for Aang to climb up on his back. Once that small chore was done, Appa took off to the air, careful not to fly too high or too far, because he was still young, and he knew it.

Once they were in the air, Aang brought out a little bound paper book from his robes. The book was filled with charcoal, graphite, and ink pictures and paintings. Although Aang wasn't exactly a master artist, he was pretty good (for a six-year-old), and he enjoyed drawing a lot.

Now however, he was just looking at the drawings, and making slight changes here and there. A little bit of time passed, and Aang continued to make corrections to his work. Finally, he was done, and satisfied, and he held out his picture as far to the side as he could.

"Hey Appa! D'you like my picture?" Aang called out.

Appa roared, and Aang took that as a yes. "Great!" he called back. Appa continued to soar throughout the clouds, and Aang was extremely happy. Just being able to fly was great. And since he had finished the two pictures that he wanted to show Gyatso the most, he was even happier.

After a while, Aang started to notice the clouds.

"Hey, Appa, look at that," he said, pointing to a cloud. "That one looks like a dragon with a rider on it. Isn't that cool?"

Appa roared companionably; he was happy just listening to Aang. Aang pointed out several more cloud formations, commenting on random things like, "Hey, there's a comet-shaped cloud." Or "Look at the fluffy bunny cloud. It's so peaceful."

Then, a drop fell on his head. Aang looked up, and he noticed the clouds were suddenly dark and heavy with rain. Around him, in the air near the mountain, all of the other monks noticed too. One of the monks called out, "Time to get back here, children!" although it was completely unnecessary, because all of the other kids were already flying back.

Aang saw the rain, and he thought to himself, 'I can't let my drawings get wet!' Appa roared in annoyance at the rain, and Aang decided that he didn't want Appa to get wet either.

As he repeatedly thought this over and over again, Appa flew back to the mountain, trying to get to the covered stables as quickly as possible. Aang chanted 'Dry, Dry, Dry, Dry!" with his eyes closed repeatedly in his head until they got back to the mountain and the other monks.

…

As Appa soared into the stables, Aang looked around to see everyone was absolutely soaked. The kids' robes were dripping and dark with trapped water and the small bison were getting everyone wetter by shaking themselves off.

Aang and Appa were the only dry ones in the house. Not a drop of water landed on either of them.

When the monks pointed this out, Aang just stared at them questioningly. "I just repeated 'Dry' in my head a lot. Why didn't anyone else do that? It works."

The monks sweat-dropped. The elder had enough composure to not flat-out drop his jaw, but he was still surprised.

One of the monks explained carefully, "Aang, most people can't stay dry just by wanting it."

"Mmmmm, Ok!" Aang called out. Then he promptly unsaddled Appa, and ran off to find Gyatso.

…

Later, when Gyatso 'found' Aang, it was because the little kid barreled into him and gave him a fierce six-year-old I'm-so-excited hug that practically squeezed the life out of him.

"Gyatso! Gyatso! I want you t' see this!" Aang shouted excitedly.

Gyatso, while laughing at Aang's antics, pushed him away slightly and said, "Aang. I need to breathe."

"Sorry." Aang mumbled while quickly removing his arms from the strangling hold he held. His arms rapidly went behind his back.

"It's ok. Now, what did you want me to see?" Gyatso asked.

Aang grinned. "Look'it this, Gyatso!" And he proudly held out his sketchbook, which was turned to a page of a drawing of a monk, who looked vaguely like Gyatso, and a small kid, who looked even more vaguely like Aang.

Still, it was the thought that counted, and it was pretty skilled for a six-year-old.

Gyatso smiled. "It's a wonderful picture, Aang. How long did it take you to draw it?"

"It took me a whole week!" Aang chirped. "Ooh, ooh! I have another one!"

And Aang proudly presented his second picture.

Gyatso had to say, this one looked a lot different. The scene was mostly blue and white, and it had a large sphere in the middle. In the middle of the sphere, there were two shapes. One was of a large sky bison, in a dark blue color, and under that, there was a dark blue form that was obviously a human boy. He had a glowing arrow on his bald head, and he had glowing eyes. To Aang, it was apparently a "guy whose cool enough to get frozen in a block of ice!" but to Gyatso, it was the Avatar. If he wasn't mistaken, the current Avatar.

Gyatso was actually vaguely surprised. And seriously hoping that it wasn't a premonition of anything. He did ask, just to make sure, "Where did you get this idea."

Aang smiled. "I just had a dream one day, of a guy frozen in a block of ice, and of getting found by two kids in the South Pole!"

"Where did you learn about the South Pole?" Gyatso questioned with raised eyebrows.

Aang frowned. "I don't really remember…I just heard it somewhere, and remembered it was a bunch of ice."

One of the newbie monks, who just reached manhood and therefore didn't know much about children, or Avatar children, ran up to Gyatso and said in a panic, "Did you know it was raining? And Aang DIDN'T GET WET! How did he do that? Is it an air bending form?"

Gyatso had to laugh; the guy was practically begging to know, and he seemed to be embarrassed that a kid might know more than he did. "He is just a very special boy. Don't worry about it, ok."

The monk nodded and left, still slightly flustered. He hadn't even noticed Aang.

Gyatso sighed. Really, he didn't need any more proof of Aang's special birthright. It was obvious, what with the skill, the appearance of Roku, and his interest in only the four Avatar relics out of thousands of toys, but water bending? Knowing the little kid, it was to keep his picture dry. Speaking of the picture… "Aang, can I keep this picture?" he asked, pointing a slender finger at the fairly crudely drawn picture of himself and Aang.

Aang looked to be in deep thought. Inside his head, he was fighting the (six-year-old) mental debate about whether it would be better to give it to Gyatso, or to keep it. He eventually decided, and with a very solemn expression, he gave the picture to Gyatso and proclaimed, "Guard it well."

Gyatso nodded, and Aang suddenly saw a lemur, and ran down the hall as fast as he could, completely forgetting about the picture he left with Gyatso.


	3. Earth

I could have sworn I added the chapter already... Oh, well. The next installment is now up! I hope.

Anyways, there is only one more hurdle to go, and then we are done. Once again, Enjoy, and I am not a psychic, so any comments, complaints, etc. need to be sent to me in some way.

* * *

"Aang…" Gyatso started.

Two grey eyes blinked innocently. They weren't fooling anyone, though…mostly because the eyes were the only part of Aang that were visibly, well, Aang. Aang's cloud-like grey eyes currently resided in a brown, completely muddy figure of a kid.

Sure, he had cajoled the other kids to go and play with him in the mud lake they found that day, but at least the other kids were visible under all the mud. Not Aang. Somehow, the kid had managed to become one with the mud, and now he was resisting all attempts to get rid of the mud.

And that was the situation now: Aang was running around the temple, tracking muddy footprints, screaming with either fear or glee while a couple of adults chased him, yelling at him to stop and/or clean up. The result was a really loud cacophony of screaming, yelling, and kids laughing as they decided that a game of tag was in order. All of this was started by one little child named Aang. Meaning 'peace'.

Gyatso watched the procession a little while longer. Now, Aang had figured out how to run on walls, and proceeded to show off the fruits of his hard work by tracking small footprints all over the walls too. If Aang wasn't stopped, the whole, pristine white marble temple would turn into a fortress of mud.

So, since a fortress of mud would have been exceptionally hard to clean up, Gyatso figured he should stop Aang. There was only one way to stop him at this point.

"Aang, if you don't get down and wash off, there won't be any fruit pies left for you."

Aang skidded to a stop, leaving yet more mud tracks on the floor. Briefly, Gyatso wondered how the kid was still muddy after all that running, and then he switched gears to more important matters. Now, Aang was staring up at him, again, and saying, "Please, Gyatso, I want my pie! It is very important" as if his life depended on it.

Gyatso couldn't help it. It was just too funny to see Aang panic at the prospect of missing his fruit pies, and as a result, Gyatso chuckled.

This did not fly well with Aang. He whined, "It's not funny! Pie is a really important part of dinner!"

Gyatso, who finally managed to contain his laugher, bent down to look at Aang square in the eye, and said 'seriously', "Aang. Don't worry. If you clean up quickly enough-and that means all of your clothes, as well as the floor and the walls-you might be able to get to dinner quickly enough to get a pie."

Aang perked up right away. He smiled happily and said, "Yup, I'll have everything clean by dinner!"

"Wait!" Gyatso said, alarmed, "You don't need to finish it that fast!"

Aang looked at Gyatso like he was being dumb. "Of course I do. I need to finish before dinner, or I won't get my pie."

And with that, he sped off to get stuff to clean the place with.

Gyatso just stared. "This might be a problem."

Aang diligently scrubbed the floor. For the first five minutes, anyways. Then, he got bored. Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored! It ends up, cleaning all that mud was **not** fun. Still… he did want his fruit pie…

He did the only logical thing.

"Mud. Move!" Aang commanded, standing as tall as he could at his whole three-and-a-half feet of height while pointing at said mud.

The mud did absolutely nothing.

"Move!" he said again.

Again, the mud did nothing.

"I command you to move!" he called out, once again, this time, sweeping his hand in an exaggerated banishing movement.

The mud moved.

Aang smiled.

Currently, Gyatso was sitting at the dinner table, waiting for the bell, which would signal the start of the meal, to sound.

In Airbender fashion, they had a big dinner period, which started around dusk, or sometimes, an hour before. The people were free to eat then or to make something in the kitchens later, but most preferred to eat with the others, and the kids were not trusted to cook their own food. If they were anything like Aang, they would steal all the fruit jams, used for pastries and bread, eat some, and smear the rest on the wall. Those jams took a long time to make. Aside from that, they were also too young to use the open-air ovens, and it was dangerous because of all the kitchenware. You didn't need to eat meat to use a knife, after all.

Anyways, Gyatso heard the bell, and finally got up, deciding that it would be a good thing to get the 'crazy hyper midget kid' as he was *not* fondly dubbed by some of the younger day care priests.

He made it out the door of the dining room when Aang himself ran into him, in a desperate effort to get to the fruit pies quicker.

Predictably, both fell to the ground, because any hyper kid running at the speed of air-bending has a lot of momentum behind them.

Gyatso pushed himself up into a sitting position to see Aang on the floor, rubbing his head sorely, but not looking really focused on any pain.

"What are you doing running so fast, Aang?" Gyatso asked, although he could guess the answer.

Aang chirped happily, "I finished all of the cleaning, and now I need my pie!"

And with that, he ran off into the dining room, where a couple of innocent fruit pies soon met a messy demise.

Gyatso just had to check. Aang said he finished cleaning, but what was his opinion of clean? And what if he left puddles on the ground? People would slip, and there would be even more problems.

As he mused on all the things that could have possibly gone wrong, Gyatso reached the site of the mess. It was clean. Spotless, even, and he was shocked. Then Gyatso looked to the outdoors, and saw that the whole of the surrounding area was completely coated in a fine layer of drying mud.

'Of course' he thought. 'Earth-bending.'


End file.
